


Do Your Worst (For I Will Do Mine!)

by daniellemydear



Series: Love Multiplies Exponentially [1]
Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Ares3some, Established Relationship, Multi, Polyamory, this is what happens when you're on a flight with no wifi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 06:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5081221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniellemydear/pseuds/daniellemydear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no insta-fix for severe PTSD which is why both Beth and Chris were anxious to find Mark missing from their bed in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Your Worst (For I Will Do Mine!)

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw the movie the week it came out and then last week I read the book on a flight to Kansas City for work had this scene rattle around my brain for two days and then wrote this on the flight back to Burbank... I wasn't entirely sure I was even going to post it but I reread it today cleaned it up a little bit and thought what the hell maybe someone else will enjoy it. It's Ares3some because I love these three nerds and I want them to all be nerds together

Beth Johanssen woke up knowing something wasn’t right. 

The warm body of her doctor boyfriend was pressed up against her back, one of his legs slung over both of hers, so she knew that Chris was right where he was supposed to be, but reaching out in front of her revealed nothing but cold sheets where her botanist boyfriend should have been. He might have been in the bathroom, but she didn’t hear the hum of the bathroom fan. Cracking an eye open she confirmed that the en suite door was open and dark. A glance over at the clock on the nightstand told her that it was so late that it could now be classified as early. 

She wanted to get up and check the rest of the house, but she was currently pinned under 180 pounds of solid muscle. She never could figure out how he could have such a tight grip even while unconscious. 

Reaching behind her she gave Chris’s hip a couple sleepy shakes. “Chris, Chris honey wake up. Let me go a little.”

“Mrphfff.” Was his only reply, if anything his grip around her stomach tightening as he pulled her even closer, like she was his own personal teddy bear. 

“Mark’s not in bed.”

“What?” That was enough to get Chris to slacken his hold as he sat up enough to see the other side of the bed for himself. “Where’d he go?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Dunno, but I’m gonna go track him down,” Beth replied, already climbing out of bed and slipping her robe on over her shoulder. “You should go back to sleep, you have to be up in a few hours.” 

He was already up and putting on his slippers, she knew he wouldn’t listen. 

Although they had been back on earth for months, Mark had only been home for a couple weeks. His extended stay on Mars had left him in rough shape physically and even with Beck’s intensive care on the long journey home, his stay in NASA’s rehab facility far outlasted the rest of the crews’. 

And while his physical state was much improved, his mental state was a longer road to recovery. Since his rescue, Mark had become prone to nightmares and panic attacks. Even he had no idea what was going to set him off at any on time. Sometimes it was small spaces that made him feel claustrophobic having spent years forcibly confined to tight quarters, and then a few hours later it might be being outside in the garden that sent him into a tail spin, because for that same amount of time being unprotected in wide open spaces meant a certain death.

It was one step forward and two steps back until Beck finally convinced the other doctors at NASA to let Mark come home with him and Beth, his reasoning being that being forced to stay in an institutional environment wasn’t allowing him to move on from his experiences and he needed to reconnect to living life on Earth. It was only because Chris had been his primary physician for so long and knew his medical history better than anyone and that Beth worked from home so he would never be alone, that NASA eventually relented. He still went in for continued rehab and appointments with a psychiatrist several times a week, but they finally released him from 24 hour observation and into Dr. Beck’s care. 

Of course they were all pretty sure that NASA assumed he would be staying in their guest room, but none of the trio felt the need to correct that assumption. They had gotten enough shit from the higher ups when Chris and Beth immediately moved in together after they had been released from the hospital, making it obvious that they had begun their relationship while on the mission. If the powers that be found out that it was actually literally half the crew that had hooked up in space—well let’s just say it was better if they didn’t find out. Besides it wasn’t any of their business anyways. 

And while being at home with the people he loved and who loved him had certainly made a marked improvement in his progress, there was no insta-fix for severe PTSD which is why both Beth and Chris were anxious to find Mark missing in the middle of the night. They moved quickly checking the rooms upstairs and when finding them all empty moved downstairs to repeat the process. 

Beth was crossing the living room to check Chris’s home office when she noticed the French doors out to the back yard were open. They lived outside of the city on a fair bit of land, so there wasn’t any ambient light from neighbors, but the moon was bright enough that night that she easily spotted their missing man. He was on the far side of the pool standing barefoot in the grass looking up at the night sky with an intense scrutiny. 

“Chris!” she called in shouted whisper. “Found him!” 

“Where is he?” he asked, coming back in from the garage where he was making sure all three cars were still there. 

“He’s in the back yard,” she said leaning against the open door jamb. “Just standing there looking at the sky, not moving.”

“Did he sleep walk out there?” Beck asked, the doctor in him already had his brain spinning with possible diagnoses. “That’s not a good sign, if he’s started sleeping walking then that could indicate—” 

“He’s not sleep walking,” Beth interrupted, grabbing his arm to keep him from marching outside to get Mark as was clearly his intention. 

“Then what is he doing?” he asked looking down at his girlfriend. 

“He’s looking at Mars,” she whispered, without taking her eyes off their wayward boyfriend. “It’s been hiding behind the sun for the past two months. This is the first time it’s been visible since his jail break.” That had been Mark’s term for his release from the hospital, not hers. 

“Oh,” Chris said softly. It hadn’t even occurred to him. “He’s going to get sick standing in the wet grass barefoot and shirtless in the middle of the night,” he grumbled clearly still wanting to go after him, but Beth didn’t release the grip she had on his wrist.

“Let’s just give him a couple more minutes.”

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

It looked so unassuming up there.

The vast majority of the public doesn’t even realize they’re looking a planet when they see it, instead mistaking it for an orangish tinted star, about as bright as the stars in Orion’s Belt. 

But Mark Watney knew better. 

He knew that that little orange speck in the sky was actually a giant inhospitable frozen desert wasteland that had done its best to kill him at every turn. 

He knew how that red iron oxidized dirt stuck to everything it touched. He knew what it felt like to have a film of Martian dust coating his skin, the way it grit between his teeth, how it stained his fingernails orange. 

He knew what it felt like to be the only living thing on that barren world. 

He knew the true meaning of the phrase deafening silence. 

He knew what it was like to live with one mistake, one storm, one stroke of bad luck between him and total catastrophe.

He knew that he probably should have died there. 

But he didn’t. 

Because he also knew how to take everything Mars threw at him and throw it right back.

Because he knew how to draw life from that barren soil and make things grow.

Because he came, he saw, he conquered. More than that he colonized that bitch. 

Because he was Mark Fuckin Watney. The Pirate King of Mars. 

Slowly, but with purpose Mark raised both of his arms towards the sky and extended both middle fingers. 

“Fuck you Mars.”

And as he stood there in the small hours of the morning flipping the bird to a hunk of rock a hundred and forty million miles away a weight he didn’t even realize he was carrying lifted from his shoulders. 

Because Mars was nothing but a single insignificant speck in the night sky. 

And he was on Earth, where he could feel the dew covered grass beneath his feet, and a cool breeze against his skin. He could hear the chirping of cicadas in the trees and the fall of water where the hot tub drained into the pool. He could breathe deep of non-recycled air and smell the crisp night air. And he could go inside the home he shared with the two people he loved more than anything on this planet or any other. 

His head turned with a snap to look over his shoulder at the rumbling sound of far off thunder. Even in the dark, he could see the clouds moving towards them, he had no doubts it would be pouring by dawn. And for the first time since he had set foot back on terra firma the idea of it didn’t make his breath hitch and send his pulse sky rocketing. Slowly he turned back towards Mars. 

“Life is a storm, my young friend,” he quoted quietly to the night. “You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did on Mars.” A smile spread across his face as his own perceived cleverness. “Do your worst, for I will do mine!”

A wave of serenity and contentment washed over him. Mars couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

He was home.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Back inside the house, Beth only had to stop Chris from charging outside two more times. Once after he clearly told the sky how he felt, giving it the double middle finger, and once after a clap of thunder from the incoming storm. Bad weather had understandably been a consistent trigger to Mark’s panic attacks and the doctor was sure he was going to have a meltdown in the middle of the back yard. Truthfully she wanted to run out into the yard herself, but something told her to wait it out, and her instinct was rewarded when instead of panicking, he simply turned back around to face the red planet that was his home for a year and a half.

But she was starting to get antsy herself, watching Mark stand there so still. She didn’t like it. Mark was always so full of life, always needing to be doing something, always in motion. Even if they were all just lounging on the couch watching some TV he was incapable of sitting completely still, always bouncing a knee or running a hand up and down one of their arms. She didn’t even think he noticed he did it, and she had long since accepted it as a part of his personality. Seeing him so still just felt wrong. 

“What is he saying?” Chris asked squinting out into yard. 

“No clue,” she replied doing the same. They could both see his mouth moving, but he was too far out to for his words to make it back to them. 

And then he closed his eyes, extended his arms, tipped his head back, and smiled. It was one of the most beautiful things Beth had ever seen. 

Mark basked in the night air for a few more moments before seemingly deciding that he had had enough and turned to come inside. He was about half way back to the house when both Chris and Beth saw the older man clearly startle when he noticed them standing just over the threshold.

“What the fuck are you two nerds doing awake so late?” Mark asked, jogging across the flagstone patio, quickly closing the distance between them. “You have to be at work in a couple hours,” he said to Chris. “And you have a teleconference at 11 that you’re already going to be hard enough to wake up for,” he added in Beth’s direction, her practically nocturnal sleeping habits a thing of legend. 

“We were—” Chris started.

“You weren’t—” Beth said at the same time.

“Not to mention it’s freezing out here,” Mark cut them both off before they could say anything. “And it’s going to start raining soon. Do you two want to get sick? Really Dr. Bossy Beck you should know better,” he teased as he herded them both inside, as if he wasn’t the one dressed in only his sleep pants and who had been standing outside for who knows how long. “Personally, I’m going inside before my balls freeze off.”

“But I—”

“For fucks sake Watney—”

Mark cut them off again, a shit eating grin on his face as he practically pushed them up the stairs towards their bedroom. “I swear, you two take so much looking after.”

**Author's Note:**

> ASoooo what did you all think? I have some other Martian ideas rattling around in my brain but I'm not sure if I would want to just do them as little stand alones that could fit in this universe or if I want to go for my original idea with them and write a WinterShieldShock/Ares3some mash up that would be a longer story... Or if that's even something anyone would be interested in reading? I'm willing to hear thoughts and opinions on that :)


End file.
